The Power of Wondering
by Jules3
Summary: Chapter 5 now up! Chandler makes a decision... which heart to break? (C&M)
1. Chapter One

HI AGAIN! WELL, I'D LIKE TO BEGIN BY SAYING THAT I WISH I COULD TAKE ALL THE CREDIT FOR THIS FIC; HOWEVER, THE MAIN IDEA OF IT IS FROM THE BRAIN OF NATCHOU, WHO WOULD APPEAR TO BE A BIT OF A GENIUS, IF YOU ASK ME, AND WHO IS ALSO PLAYING THE ROLE OF EDITOR AND PLOT CONSULTANT. LOL... ANYWAY, PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK... FEEDBACK AND REVIEWS ARE GOOD! :-)  
  
The Power of Wondering  
  
"I can't believe you guys have been together for almost three years already," Rachel commented as she sat on the couch in Monica and Chandler's apartment.   
"Yeah, I know. It seems like just yesterday that he was just 'my annoying friend Chandler,'" Monica mused, using Phoebe's words. She paused as she allowed her mind to drift back to the night they had spent together in London, but was jolted back to reality by Rachel's voice.  
"Hand me the pink, would ya, Mon?" Monica handed over the requested bottle of nail polish and inspected her toes. She and Rachel hadn't had one of their makeover days in years, and she had missed them. It seemed that all of the fun stuff they'd used to do together had sort of vanished once Rachel moved out, but with Chandler at work and Monica taking the day off, they'd decided to reinstate the old tradition.   
"Do you think this color suits me?" she asked, waggling her perfectly varnished toes in Rachel's direction. Rachel momentarily studied the blood-red paint that Monica had chosen.   
"Oh, yeah, definitely," she said, nodding. "That's so you. I can't wear dark colors... they make me look like a vamp." She hunched over her toes once again, concentrating on her task. As Mon rested her feet on the coffee table, she sighed contentedly, reflecting on how much better her life seemed now that Chandler was in it. She couldn't wait until the day they were married and she would finally be his wife. "So," Rachel's voice broke Mon's thoughts as she continued to paint her toes, "what are your plans for tomorrow night? After all, it is your three-year anniversary... what have you guys got planned? Fancy candlelit dinner and walk through the park? Chinese takeout and a passionate romp in the sack?" Monica blushed and then threw Rachel a dirty look.  
"Real eloquent, Rach," she commented. "You should be a writer... you have a way with words."  
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. But seriously... what are you guys planning on doing?" Monica shrugged.  
"I don't know, actually," she confessed. "He's planning it this year. I told him that I'd do it, but he said that with me in charge of all the wedding plans, he wanted to do this for me. So he hasn't told me what the plans are yet." Rachel chuckled.  
"I'm going to laugh when you end up at Madison Square Gardens for a Ranger game, and instead of flowers you wind up with a big foam finger," she declared. Mon shook her head.  
"No, it won't be anything like that," she insisted. "You guys really don't know the side of him I know. I mean, I know how you see him because that's the way I used to see him, too... but now... now that's all different." Rachel rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smiling at her friend's faraway expression. Monica had always been such a sucker for sappiness, and when it came to Chandler she never failed to prove it. Rach reached over and poked her on the arm, snapping her out of her trance.  
"Just wanted to warn you about the string of drool that's hanging off your lower lip," she teased. Monica blushed again, quickly dropping the subject and picking up the nail polish to coat her toes a second time.  
  
"Hey, beautiful," Chandler greeted as he entered the apartment after work. "Whoa... what the hell happened in here?" he asked, fanning the air in front of his face. "Were you painting walls or something?" Monica sniffed the air, confused, and then smiled as she realized.  
"Oh... no, Rachel and I were painting our toes and stuff." He shook his head.   
"No wonder women act so weird," he observed. "If I breathed in these fumes all day, I'd be a little wacko, too." Monica rolled her eyes, smiling, as he placed his briefcase by the coat stand.  
"Maybe I should open a window," she contemplated aloud as Chandler walked up behind her and buried his face in her neck, breathing in the mixed scents of her shampoo, soap, and perfume.  
"Mmm," he murmured, his face still hidden. "I love this smell." She turned around and faced him with a smile on her face.  
"Yeah, well, I'm quite fond of yours, as well," she informed him, kissing him lightly on the mouth. "How was work?" He released her and sank onto the couch, groaning.  
"Boring... as usual. But I absolutely refuse to discuss my job... or anything else, for that matter, until I get another kiss from my gorgeous fiancee." She smiled and complied, bending over him to peck him lightly once more. She yelped as he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her forcefully into his lap, giggling as he hid his face in her neck once more and peppered her skin with butterfly kisses.  
"Chandler," she protested, playfully swatting him with her hand. "I have a dinner to make."  
"Me no hungry," he informed her, doing the Tarzan voice that she always thought made him so adorable. He paused. "Well," he corrected himself, "I guess you could say I am... hungry for a little Monica-lovin'." She laughed again and stood up.   
"Whoa, there, Tarzan," she contended. "Sorry, but the food's already in the oven." She smiled at his dejected expression, and she ran her hand affectionately through his hair. "Don't worry," she advised. "Whatever you miss out on now I'll make up for tomorrow night." He tried to maintain his sulky expression, but it was no use as an impish grin slowly crept across his face.  
"I'll hold you to that, Ms. Geller," he promised, as he rose from the couch and walked into the bedroom to change out of his work clothes.  
  
"Mon, you ready?" She emerged from the bedroom, and Chandler's eyes widened as they locked on her.  
"Yeah," she replied as she stopped in front of him.  
"Wow... you... you look... stunning," he finished finally, wishing that he could find a better word. "Stunning" seemed inadequate, but he couldn't think of anything that said it better. She smiled, gazing up at him.  
"And you look VERY handsome," she told him, meaning every word. She wondered briefly how she'd managed to go so many years without realizing just how gorgeous he was, but dismissed the thought as he helped her into her coat.  
"Thank you," he said, blushing. She smiled and allowed him to lead her out of the apartment, wondering what he had in store for them.  
  
As they sat in the elegant restaurant after their meal, Chandler smiled again as he found himself staring at her. He leaned forward and took her hand, which had been resting on the table, and grinned at her. She smiled and linked her fingers through his, loving the way their hands seemed to fit together so perfectly. He seemed to be thinking the same thing as his voice broke the comfortable silence between them. "I love you," he said, and as Monica let the words wash over her, she was touched at how they seemed to come from somewhere much more meaningful than his lips. No matter how many times he said it, she always felt a flood of combined happiness and love surge through her, just as she had the first time he'd said it.  
"I love you, too," she replied, matching his smile as he sighed contentedly.   
"Wait here a sec," he requested, as he rose from the table. Monica watched him go over to the ensemble that was providing the dancing music, and couldn't help smiling when he returned with a satisfied look on his face. "Would you like to dance?" he asked, grinning and holding his hand out toward her.  
"I'd love to," she said, placing her napkin on the table and rising. He led her to where a few other couples were dancing and gave her a small smile as a familiar song began to play.  
  
  
She's got a way about her,  
Don't know what it is, but I know that I can't live without her.  
She's got a way of pleasing,  
Don't know why it is, but there doesn't have to be a reason anyway.  
She's got a smile that heals me,  
I don't know why it is, but I have to laugh when she reveals me,  
And she's got a way of talking,  
Don't know why it is, but it lifts me up when we are walking anywhere.  
She comes to me when I'm feeling down, inspires me  
Without a sound, she touches me, and I get turned around.  
She's got a way of showing,  
How I make her feel, and I find the strength to keep on going,  
She's got a light around her, oh, everywhere she goes,   
A million dreams of love surround her everywhere,  
She comes to me when I'm feeling down, inspires me,  
Without a sound, she touches me, I get turned around.  
She's got a smile that heals me,  
Don't know why it is, but I have to laugh when she reveals me,  
She's got a way about her,  
Don't know what it is, but I know that I can't live without her anyway.  
  
She smiled up at him as he leaned in and softly kissed her, telling her silently how much he loved her. She sighed contentedly, resting her head on his shoulder as the last few bars of the song died down. She wondered, as she found herself doing more and more often as time wore on, what she had done to deserve such overwhelming happiness.  
  
Monica gasped as she entered their apartment a short while later, stunned by the sight that greeted her. The apartment looked nothing like it had when they left. There were yellow roses everywhere, and candles flickered evenly from various surfaces, sending mysterious shadows dancing across the walls. She was vaguely aware of Chandler gently kissing her neck, and she finally broke the silence, still staring around the room. "Oh, Chandler," she whispered, suddenly choking up. "It's so beautiful." He stopped kissing her neck and looked around for himself. After a moment of silence, she turned to face him. "I love you so much," she whispered. "Being with you makes me so happy."  
"I can see that," he said, jokingly referring to her tears. He quieted as he gazed at her. "I love you, too. Monica, you taught me how to love someone, which is something I wasn't sure I'd ever learn, and I will spend forever and always loving you. That will never change. Ever." Unable to resist, she stood on her toes and kissed him deeply, loving him so much that it almost hurt. He smiled and took her hand, leading her to the center of the room. As he passed the couch, he leaned over the back of it and grabbed two flowers. Turning to Monica, he extended first a red one. "Mon, this is for you. A red rose, which is a symbol of love and passion, both of which I have never felt as strongly as I have with you." She gazed at him, stunned. She knew Chandler was romantic, but this was far more than she had ever dreamed of anyone, even him. Handing her the second rose, he continued. "This one is white because the love I feel for you is the purest thing I know, and there is nothing in this world or any other that can change that." She felt the tears sliding down her cheeks as she remained silent. "And the rest," he said, gesturing around the room, "are yellow. Yellow roses are supposed to symbolize friendship, and Mon, as much as anything, you're my best friend. You were my best friend before I loved you, and you always will be. Friendship is the root of our relationship, and somehow that makes it mean more to me than I could have imagined." She reached up and kissed him again, a kiss so emotional that it almost scared her.   
"Love is friendship caught on fire," she murmured as they parted, remembering an old quote. He smiled.  
"Can't argue with that." She smiled back. "How about one more dance?" he suggested pecking her lightly on the mouth once more. She simply nodded, wondering how on earth this night could get any better. He fiddled with the stereo for a minute, and then took her in his arms as the music began to play.  
  
Every time our eyes meet,  
This feeling inside me,  
Is almost more than I can take.  
And baby when you touch me,  
I can feel how much you love me,  
And it just blows me away.  
I've never been this close to anyone  
Or anything,  
I can hear your thoughts,  
I can see your dreams,  
I don't know how you do what you do,  
I'm so in love with you,  
It just keeps getting better.  
I wanna spend the rest of my life  
With you by my side  
Forever and ever.  
Every little thing that you do,  
Baby, I'm amazed by you.  
  
The smell of your skin,  
The taste of your kiss,  
The way you whisper in the dark.  
Your hair all around me,  
Baby you surround me,  
Touch every place in my heart.  
Oh, it feels like the first time every time,  
I wanna spend the whole night in your arms,  
I don't know how you do what you do,  
I'm so in love with you,  
It just keeps getting better.  
I wanna spend the rest of my life  
With you by my side  
Forever and ever.  
Every little thing that you do,  
Baby, I'm amazed by you.  
Every little thing that you do,  
I'm so in love with you,  
It just keeps getting better.  
I wanna spend the rest of my life  
With you by my side,  
Forever and ever.  
Every little thing that you do,  
Baby, I'm amazed you.  
  
As silence surrounded them once again, Monica lifted her head slowly from Chandler's chest and looked adoringly into his eyes. Wordlessly, he gazed back at her and leaned in, kissing her deeply. She could almost feel herself melt as their lips met. They must have kissed thousands of times, and yet her reaction to his sweet kisses was always the same. The first time he had kissed her he'd sent her into a spin, a spin from which she had yet to emerge, and as their kiss grew more heated, she concluded that she'd be quite content to be lost in that whirlwind for an eternity. She almost sighed as she felt his tongue enter her mouth timidly, and she moved her hands from his shoulders to his hair, pressing her body closer to his and deepening the kiss. She felt his strong arms wrap tightly around her body, pulling her closer to him. As their kisses intensified, he lifted her up effortlessly and carried her into their room, closing the door behind him. As she heard the click of the door closing, Monica broke the kiss and gazed at him, smiling. He grinned shyly back at her, and she felt her heart flutter. She loved what she called his "bedroom eyes" -- the tender, loving, and almost shy look he got whenever they were in bed together, and shortly beforehand as well. She stepped away from him, looking at him adoringly and slipping off her shoes. She watched as he did the same with his shoes and socks and he smiled as she slowly removed the clip from her hair, letting it fall around her face. He smiled, marveling for what was probably the billionth time at how beautiful she was. He slowly took off his tie and dropped it onto the floor next to his shoes. They stood there for a moment just gazing at each other before Monica took a step toward him and he welcomed her into his arms, kissing her heatedly once again. She recognized the slight sense of urgency in his kisses that always seemed to be present before they made love. She kissed him back with equaled anticipation and gently unbuttoned his dress shirt as she felt him slide her dress straps off of her shoulders. He broke their kiss and moved his mouth to the nape of her neck, lightly kissing her soft skin. Monica leaned her head to the side, encouraging him as she pushed his shirt off his shoulders. She ran her hands over his bare skin while he let go of her waist to let his shirt fall the rest of the way to the floor. Embracing her once again, he slowly unzipped her dress as she unbuttoned his slacks and they discarded both, leaving them standing in only their underwear. He broke their kiss once again as he pulled away to run his eyes over her body, absorbing the familiar sight of her. "God, you're so gorgeous," he whispered, his voice weak with emotion. She smiled, blushing slightly as she gazed at him. Before she could respond, he kissed her again, wrapping his arms securely around her and lowering her onto their bed. They discarded the last few things that separated them, and as their kisses became hungrier they made love, savoring the pleasure they provided each other.  
  
As they laid together afterward, Chandler lightly ran his fingers up and down her bare arm, raising tiny goosebumps on her skin. She loved the way he did that, and she smiled against his chest. "I love making love to you," he murmured, and she felt her heart skip a beat.  
"Not as much as I do," she promised, lifting her head to smile at him. He grinned back down at her.  
"Well, after all, we ARE pretty good at it, aren't we?"   
She smiled. "Yeah, well, you know what they say."  
"What's that?"  
"Sex is the most fun you can have without laughing."   
He flashed another grin. "Well, I'd have to say it's the most fun you can have, period." She chuckled, running her hand lightly over his bare chest.  
"I can't wait to be your wife," she said after a moment.   
"I can't wait till you're my wife, either," he answered with a contented sigh. He paused for a moment, ceasing to stroke her arm, and gently untangled their limbs.  
"Where are you going?" she asked curiously. He didn't answer and rolled over to open the drawer next to the bed. She wondered what he was looking for until she heard it close and he turned to face her once again. In his hand he held what looked like a jewelry box, and he had a serious look on his face.  
"Mon," he began, looking at her intently. "I was going to wait until the day before our wedding to give you this, but I want you to have it now. This," he continued, opening the box, "belonged to my grandmother." Monica drew in a sharp breath as she gazed down at the necklace. It was a beautiful chain of white gold, with tiny pearls about an inch apart all the way around. At the front there was an opal charm, slightly bigger than the pearls, which glistened and shined with dappled colors. The way in which it glinted and gave off numerous different hues made it seem almost mysterious, and she gazed up at Chandler.  
"You... you want me to have it?" she asked nervously.  
He nodded. "I thought... I thought maybe you could wear it to the wedding. I thought it would look elegant with a wedding dress." Monica's eyes filled with tears as she gazed at the necklace again.  
"It's beautiful, Chandler."  
"Which is exactly why YOU should have it," he said softly. "Why don't we see how it looks? I know you're not wearing your dress yet... but hey, it might dress up that sheet a little bit." He smiled and removed it from the box as she leaned forward to let him clasp it behind her neck.  
"What do you think?" she asked timidly as he looked at it.  
"Beauty for beauty," he replied, kissing her softly on the mouth. "It's perfect." She smiled as she put a hand to her throat, feeling the cool pearls against her skin.  
"Thank you, sweetheart," she murmured. "I love it."  
"Well, I love you," he responded, kissing her again and pulling her into his arms as they laid down again. As she listened to his breathing slowly become deeper, Monica's mind wandered as she laid in bed with his arms wrapped lovingly around her. She sighed, feeling as though her life couldn't get any better than it already was, and thought momentarily of the night they'd spent in London. "Who'd have thought that night would change the rest of my life?" she thought. "Chandler and I might have never even realized our feelings for each other." The thought scared her, and she shivered slightly. Chandler felt her shudder in his sleep, and he instinctively tightened his embrace. She sighed, feeling safe and contented in his arms. "Where on earth would I be if it weren't for London?" she thought sleepily, as she drifted off and into a dream world that she was sure couldn't be any sweeter than her own life.  
  
Monica yawned and stretched, slightly surprised to find that Chandler had already gotten out of bed. She rose and rubbed her eyes while sleepily tying her robe around her waist and then stumbled out of the bedroom. She looked around the apartment groggily, allowing her eyes to adjust to the morning light. As she noticed that Chandler's briefcase wasn't next to the door, she suddenly got a funny feeling that, after a moment, she chose to ignore. She remained outside her bedroom door, wondering where he was and why he hadn't told her he was leaving. Suddenly the guest room door opened and Monica turned, wondering what on earth he'd been doing in the guest room.  
"Rachel?"  
"Mm.. Morning, Mon," Rachel answered with a yawn and an early-morning scowl that Monica vividly remembered. Monica stared at her, dumbfounded.  
"What are you doing here?" Rachel stared at her momentarily and then stretched as she shook her head.  
"Not now, Monica. I know it's relatively early for me to be up, but really... sarcasm is not your strong point. Leave the quips to Chandler."  
"Where is Chandler?" Monica asked, baffled. "And why are you in our apartment? Did something happen with Joey or something?" Rachel stared at her for a moment, eventually breaking the silence with a simple question.  
"What the hell are you talking about? Chandler's probably still asleep. And I'm here because where the hell else would I be at seven in the morning? And what has Joey got to do with any of this?" Monica continued to stare at Rachel with a look of utter amazement.  
"Okay, why don't we start over?"  
"Good idea," Rachel agreed, slightly annoyed.  
"What are you doing here?"  
"God, Monica, what the hell do you mean, 'what am I doing here?' I LIVE here."  
"No, you don't. You live with Joey. Chandler lives here." Rachel stared at her, dumbfounded.  
"Why would Chandler live here? And no, I don't live with Joey. I live HERE. Monica, it's seven in the morning... have you been drinking?" Mon didn't answer, and instead barged into Rachel's room, as if to illustrate her point. Instead of proving herself, she was shocked to see that all of Rachel's things were back as they had been when she lived in the apartment.  
"When did you move all your stuff in?" she asked.  
"Seven years ago when I ran out on Barry... Mon, honey, you're worrying me, are you okay?" Suddenly she realized. "You're sleepwalking, aren't you? I get it... okay, we're going to go back to beddie-bye..."   
Monica stormed out of Rachel's bedroom and into her own, where she promptly threw open the closet doors. She felt her confusion mount as she was faced with only her own clothing and none of Chandler's. She suddenly felt as though something were terribly wrong, and she darted back out into the living room, close to tears. "Where's Chandler?" she demanded of Rachel, who was staring at Mon as though she were a circus freak.  
"Probably asleep in his apartment. Mon, what on earth is going on?" Ignoring her questions, Monica exited her apartment and entered Joey's, staring at the middle of the room with a funny look on her face. There, in the center, just like they used to be, were two matching barcaloungers. The feeling of panic began to mount and she approached Chandler's door, hoping that she would see his smiling face behind it. She hastily opened the door and saw Chandler pulling a pair of jeans over his boxers.  
"Jesus, Mon, what the hell are you doing?" he asked as he hastily zipped his fly.  
"Oh, God, Chandler... there you are. I was so worried when I woke up and you were gone." She walked up to him and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest and breathing in the familiar scent of him.  
"Whoa, Mon, what's going on. Is everything okay? What are you talking about, hon?" She felt his arms wrap tentatively around her, and she noted with confusion that it felt more like a hug from the pre-dating Chandler than the fiance Chandler. She was suddenly irritated by the fact that she was so confused and worried that she pulled away and stared at him.  
"Why did you come over here?" He stared at her, confused.  
"Huh?"  
"What are you doing in here? And why is Rachel in our apartment?"  
"Monica, this is my room... a more legitimate question would be why are YOU in here? And I presume that Rachel's in your apartment because it's her apartment, too. Monica, is everything okay? You're worrying me a little bit here."  
"Why does everyone keep acting like I'M the crazy one here? And WHY do you keep saying it's Rachel's apartment? It's NOT Rachel's apartment!" Chandler stared at her for a moment, wondering what she was ranting about, when his bedroom door opened again.  
"Hey, sweetie..." Kathy quieted when she saw Monica standing in the middle of Chandler's room. "What's going on?"   
Monica stared at Kathy, shocked. "What's SHE doing here?!" She turned to face Chandler, her eyes flashing confusion and pain.  
"She spent the night. Monica, what's going on?"  
"THAT'S WHAT I WANT TO KNOW!" Monica cried, exasperated and upset. "What the hell is going on?! Why is my fiance in his old room with an ex-girlfriend? Why is my old roommate suddenly reappearing in my apartment?" Chandler shushed her quietly.  
"Pete slept with an ex-girlfriend? Is that what this is about?" Monica stared at him again, more confused than ever.  
"Pete? Who said anything about Pete?"  
"You did. You said your fiance slept with an ex-girlfriend." After a moment of shock, Monica spoke in a strange voice.  
"Pete's not my fiance," she said, in a voice mixed with terror and bafflement.   
"You guys broke up?" he asked, concerned.  
"Pete's not my fiance," she repeated. "You're my fiance." Chandler stared at her uneasily, now genuinely concerned about his best friend. The Monica who was usually so annoying realistic and down-to-earth was suddenly acting like a borderline schizophrenic.   
"Mon, sweetie ... Pete's your fiance." He took an uneasy look at Kathy. "And Kathy's my fiancee." As Monica felt the room begin to spin, she looked from Chandler to Kathy and suddenly felt the world collapse as she fainted away into oblivion. 


	2. Chapter Two

HELLO, HELLO, HELLO... PART TWO. AS MENTIONED IN PART ONE, THIS FIC IS A JOINED EFFORT WITH NATCHOU PLAYING THE PART OF EDITOR AND PLOT CONSULTANT! ::AHEM... SEND THE FLAMES TO HER:: LOL... JUST KIDDING! BUT SERIOUSLY, WE WANT FEEDBACK, SO PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW! SORRY THAT IT'S TAKEN AWHILE... IF YOU READ THE LATEST CHAPTER OF "FEAR," YOU KNOW THAT I WAS BEEN DEALING WITH THE STRESS OF FINALS; HENCE, FICS HAVE (SADLY) HAD TO TAKE A BACKSEAT IN LIFE. BUT THAT'S ALL CHANGED... SUMMER BABY! WOOHOO! HEHE... OKAY, YEAH, I'M DONE. ENJOY THE FIC. :)  
  
"Mon? Mon, honey, open your eyes. Monica?" Monica felt the haze slowly evaporating as the voices above her grew clearer and more insistent. She opened her eyes slowly and stared upward, feeling as though she was suffering from amnesia, so deep was her confusion. Chandler and Rachel were looking down at her, the concern written plainly across their faces. She struggled to sit up and both Chandler and Rachel immediately leapt to help her do so. She stared at them both apprehensively and then noticed that Kathy was standing near the door, watching with a confused and uncomfortable expression on her face. Her presence brought the previous conversation back with a rush, and Monica's gaze returned immediately to Chandler's anxious face.  
"What's going on?" she asked quietly, feeling like a scared child.  
"You fainted," Rachel said gently. Monica shook her head slowly.  
"I mean, what's going on here? With us? I don't understand. Why are you," she said to Chandler, "back together with her?" Chandler glanced at Kathy uneasily.  
"Mon, Kathy and I never broke up. We've been together for over a year now."  
"But what about us?" she asked in a quiet voice. Chandler stared at her.  
"Us?"  
"You and me," Monica explicated. "Us."  
"You're with Pete," Rachel interrupted. "You're engaged to Pete. Monica, what's going on, are you okay? Did you hit your head or something?" Suddenly feeling like a trapped animal, Monica looked from one to the other and dashed out of Chandler's room, across the hall, and into her own apartment where she closed herself in her room and fell onto the bed, sobbing and feeling like a lost child.  
  
"It must have been a dream," Chandler said quietly as he sat in Central Perk with Ross and Rachel that afternoon. "She must have just had some vivid dream that she thought was real." Ross and Rachel nodded in agreement, wanting to believe it more than they actually did.  
"Yeah, you're probably right," Ross agreed compliantly. "She must have dreamt something and not been totally awake when she got up." Rachel nodded as well, lost in thought. Never before had she seen Monica in such a state, and she had been extremely concerned about her friend's well-being.   
"Yeah, a dream," she managed finally, hoping that the problem was really that simple. Chandler sat silently as he thought back to that morning, wondering what was going on with one of his best friends. He'd never seen Monica in such a state, and he felt guilty because it seemed like her bewilderment was due, at least in part, to him. He wished he understood what was going on and that he could fix it. Her suggestions that they had been together at some point in time had really confused him, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out where they'd come from.  
  
"Bah!" As he entered his apartment that night, Chandler was startled to see Monica sitting in his barcalounger, apparently awaiting his return. "Oh, Mon... you scared me. You okay?" It wasn't until a moment after his entrance that he noted how disheveled she looked. She was wearing a pair of sweatpants and one of the old t-shirts that he'd given her when he was cleaning out his closet a few years back. Her hair was messier than she usually allowed it to get, and her eyes were red and puffy. She simply stared at him sadly, and he began to feel more and more concerned for her. "Mon, please tell me what's going on," he pleaded. He felt guilty when a tear slid down her cheek, and he approached the chair and squatted down in front of her. "Mon?"  
"Please," he heard her whisper in an almost inaudible voice. "Please, tell me that I'm not crazy... tell me you remember me. That you remember us." He looked at her uneasily, and she eventually moved her gaze from the floor and looked into his eyes.   
"Hon, I'll do anything... I just don't understand what you mean," he replied apologetically.  
"Don't you remember London?"  
"Ross's almost-wedding?" Chandler asked nonchalantly. "Of course I remember it. Why, what about it?"  
"You don't remember what happened between us in London? In your hotel room?"  
"Monica," he began in a gentle voice. "You were never in my hotel room in London."  
"Chandler, listen to me, and please don't think I'm nuts, because I'm not. I swear, this is all true, and you have to listen to me and believe me, regardless of how absurd this might sound."  
"Mon, of course I'll believe you," he said. "I know you're not crazy." Monica took a shaky breath and looked into his eyes, willing herself not to cry.  
"London," she repeated. "Ross's would-be wedding. The night of the rehearsal dinner. I was upset about some guy thinking I was Ross's mother and I went to your room later that evening. You and I ended up sleeping together, and it was the most amazing night of my life." She ignored Chandler's genuinely baffled expression and continued. "We kept sleeping together when we got back to New York, although we didn't tell the others for a few months. Then, on our one-year anniversary, we went to Las Vegas because Joey was supposed to be shooting a movie out there. We almost got married in a casino, but Ross and Rachel ended up getting married instead because they were so hammered. We came back here and decided to live together. After we'd been living together for almost a year, you proposed and I said yes." She paused and looked at Chandler hopefully, praying that at least something she'd said had sparked a memory within. He looked at her blankly, the concerned look still present. It was a look, she decided, that was beginning to get on her nerves.  
"Monica," he said after a moment. "I don't know what kind of dream you had last night, but it's not real. You, you're with Pete now, and I'm with Kathy."  
"But it IS real!" Monica cried, feeling the tears building up in her eyes. "Or, it was," she added. "Please, Chandler," she pleaded. "Try to remember! I love you... you love me! We're supposed to be getting married. You... last night, after we made love, you gave me a necklace that used to belong to your grandmother! You said that I could wear it to the wedding... please..." she trailed off as the tears took over. She could feel the desperation rising within her, begging for Chandler to remember. The thought of him not even remembering their love was far too daunting a notion to accept. He looked at her sympathetically.  
"Monica, I want to help you," he said softly. "I just... I don't know what to do here." Before he could register what was happening, he felt Monica's lips on his in an urgent kiss. For a bewildered moment he allowed her to kiss him until he regained his senses and gently pushed her away. "Mon, sweetie... I don't know what all this is about, but it was just a dream or something. You need to calm down. Why don't you call Pete? Maybe it was just with him being away on that trip for the weekend or something... I'm sure you'd feel better if you saw him." At the realization that the kiss had prompted no recollection on his behalf, Monica felt the tears become stronger, and she knew that momentarily the sobs would take over. She quickly stood and left the apartment, leaving Chandler dazed and worried.  
  
"Monica?" Mon opened her eyes groggily, wondering if the voice was inside her head or inside her apartment. "Mon?" She stood up slowly and wrapped her robe around her, emerging slowly from her bedroom. "Hey, sweetie," Pete greeted her, extending a bouquet of flowers toward her with a smile on his face. The smile faded when Monica made no move to walk toward him or to accept the flowers. "Hon, you okay?" She stared at him silently. As the time passed, she was coming to realize that this horrible warp zone she was in wasn't a dream like she had hoped and prayed. It was real, or at least, as real as it could be, given how surreal it truly was. "Sweetie?" Pete's concerned voice interrupted her thoughts, and she forced a smile.   
"Hi," she said carefully. She wondered how on earth she was going to act normal around someone she hadn't seen in three years, and yet somehow was engaged to.  
"Hi," he repeated. "Is everything okay?"  
"Yeah," she lied. "I was just asleep."  
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I just got in from the airport, and I wanted to see my beautiful fiancee." Monica forced a smile and took the flowers that he was still offering. She headed into the kitchen to put them in some water, freezing when she felt Pete's arms wrap around her waist. "Don't I get a 'welcome home' kiss?" he asked jokingly. She felt her heart start to pound as she tried to think of a reason not to kiss him.  
"Uh, let me get showered and dressed," she said quickly. "I look like a wreck." Without giving him a chance to respond, she darted into the bathroom and shut the door. Once it was locked, she turned on the shower and quickly entered the warm spray, feeling the tears stinging in her eyes. She leaned against the shower wall and tried in vain to come up with some idea of what was happening as the tears slid down her cheeks. Surely this was all just some crazy misunderstanding that would get sorted out soon? Monica placed her face under the shower spray as she let her mind race, and suddenly pulled away as a daunting thought struck her. "What if it never gets sorted out? What if Chandler marries Kathy and I never get him back?" She suddenly felt as though she were going to explode if she didn't get out of the shower and out of the apartment. She shut off the water and hastily toweled off and dressed herself. After brushing her teeth, she opened the bathroom door warily and glanced around the apartment, finally spotting Pete sitting on the couch. When he heard the bathroom door open, he turned to face her.  
"Hey, beautiful," he welcomed her, holding out his hand. She stared at him, remembering a time when those very same words had come from Chandler's mouth and, feeling as though she were going to break down, she bolted from the apartment and didn't stop running until she got to Central Park. As she stopped and stared around her, she allowed the tears to dampen her face as the emotions she had tried to repress were finally freed. She felt the senses of desperation and loneliness mounting, and she sank tiredly onto one of the park benches. She pulled her knees up toward her and wrapped her arms around her legs, placing her forehead on her knees, the sobs shaking her body. In that moment, as she felt the despair and the misery take over her, she realized that there was just one thing that she wanted: Chandler's arms wrapped around her. She thought back to the times when she had felt sad about something and she had gone to Chandler for comfort. He had been her rock of support and was the only one who could really calm her down and make her feel safe. Her sobs intensified as she realized that she might never get to feel that safe again. She hugged her knees tighter as she rocked back and forth, crying and wishing that there was some way she could get her happiness back.  
  
As she walked slowly through the park, wallowing in her misery, she tried to come up with options and plans of action, but to no avail. Being that she had no idea what on earth was happening, she had no clue as to how to resolve the situation. As she glanced up ahead of her, she froze at the sight that met her eyes. There, not thirty feet ahead of her, sitting on a park bench, were Chandler and Kathy. She quickly darted behind a tree as she watched them, feeling guilt, jealousy, heartache, and desolation wash through her. Although she couldn't her their conversation, she could see them clearly, and as she watched with envy, Chandler fed Kathy a mouthful of ice cream, laughing when some of it was still on her lip. Monica cringed when she saw him lean in and kiss her in an attempt to get rid of the remaining ice cream. As they pulled away, Monica recognized on his face an all-too familiar expression. It was a look that had once made her heart flutter, but now made it break. It was the look that he always had when he used to look at Mon and tell her how much he loved her, and now Kathy was the one who was on the receiving end of it. Monica turned away quickly and leaned against the tree, trying to maintain her composure. It wasn't until that moment that she realized that Chandler really did love Kathy, and that this wasn't just some minor misunderstanding. She realized, in that moment, that Chandler had found in Kathy the happiness he had once found in Monica. As she felt her heart break, she reached the first conclusion that she had managed to produce all day: regardless of what happened to her, she wanted Chandler to be happy. She loved him too much to let him be miserable. And, as much as it pained her, it was agonizingly clear that he was happy with Kathy. She stole one more quick glance at Chandler, who was still oblivious to her presence and was laughing with his fiancee and then turned and ran out of the park, unaware of the tears that streamed down her face.   
  
"Monica, where have you been?" Pete asked as she entered the apartment. "I've been calling all over looking for you. I tried Phoebe's, I tried Ross's, I tried Joey's... I even tried the restaurant. What's the matter, why are you crying?" He made a move to walk toward her but stopped when he noticed the way she shrank away from him. "Monica," he said, his voice a little more stern. "What's going on?" She looked at him, almost feeling guilty for putting him through whatever he was feeling, but at the same time almost feeling angry with him for a reason she couldn't figure out. "Mon?" His voice was gentler, but his eyes were demanding an explanation that she knew she owed him.  
"I just need the night to myself," she said eventually. She was painfully aware of the fact that she owed him more than that, but at the same time she knew that there was no more that she could offer him in that moment. "I've had a rough day," she said simply, hoping that he would buy it. Pete stared at her for a moment, knowing that there was something deeper going on, but also recognizing that she obviously didn't want to talk about it.   
"Okay," he said dully as he bent down and picked up his bag. "I'll call you tomorrow," he said, leaving the apartment. Monica sighed. It wasn't Pete's fault that her world had been turned upside down, but it was almost as if he were the only one she could be mad at. She couldn't be mad at Chandler when basically all she wanted was to be back in his arms, and there was no reason to be angry with the rest of the group. That left only Kathy and Pete, and she knew that her irritation would be taken out on them, whether she intended it or not. As she went into her room and sat on the bed, she felt the emotions wash over her, but instead of breaking down again, she simply felt numb. It all seemed so surreal, and while she still half-expected to wake up and find that it was all a dream, as time passed the likelihood of that was rapidly diminishing. She rose from the bed slowly and looked into the mirror atop her dresser. Her eyes were red and puffy and from her face it was obvious that she had been crying. She swept her hair back and tightened the elastic that held her ponytail as she wiped her eyes fiercely. She wandered out into the living area once again and headed toward the kitchen. She knew that although it was getting somewhat late and she should be starting dinner, she was in no mood to eat. She gazed absently out of the window for a moment and up at the stars. "Plenty of time," she said to herself eventually. "This will all get sorted out. Chandler and I belong together, and no one, especially not Kathy, is going to prevent us from being together." She wiped her face again and took a deep breath, feeling slightly better at that. Realizing the power of optimistic thinking, she smiled slightly. "I'll just take a couple of days and try to get things seeming normal, and then I'll figure out how to make him remember." She nodded decidedly to herself and turned to go into the kitchen. Noticing the mail on the counter, she flipped through it, half of her mind still on Chandler. She noticed a beige envelope addressed to her, and she stared at it for a moment wondering who it was from. Before she realized what she was thinking, she had thought for a split second that it would be an RSVP to her and Chandler's wedding. She sadly erased the thought from her mind and began to carefully tear open the envelope. Her birthday was a month away... perhaps it was an early card. As she read the card, her breath caught in her throat and her heartbeat quickened. It was from Kathy's mother thanking her for catering the wedding this weekend. This weekend. She suddenly felt dizzy as she realized what this meant. In five short days her soul mate and the love of her life would be married to someone else. She threw the card on the table and ran into the bathroom as she felt the nausea take over.  
  
OKAY... PART TWO DONE! PLEASE SEND FEEDBACK!! THANK YOU!! MORE FICS ON THE WAY! (THE JOYS OF NO CLASSES, LOL). :-)  
  



	3. Chapter Three

HELLO ONCE AGAIN, MY FELLOW FANFIC PEOPLES! I HOPE EVERYONE WHO SAW IT LIKED THE WEDDING! I MUST ADMIT THAT I'M ACUTELY ANNOYED, BUT HEY... WHAT WOULD "FRIENDS" BE WITHOUT AN IRRITATINGLY SHOCKING SEASON FINALE? OKAY, WELL, MOVING RIGHT ALONG... HERE IS PART THREE OF "THE POWER OF WONDERING." SORRY THAT IT'S TAKEN AWHILE... THIS FIC, FOR SOME REASON, TAKES MUCH MORE THINKING AND BRAINSTORMING THAN THE OTHERS, WHICH IS WHY IT TAKES LONGER TO ACTUALLY GET WRITTEN. :-) I'LL TRY TO BE BETTER ABOUT IT, THOUGH, I PROMISE! SOON I HOPE TO HAVE THIS SERIES DONE AS WELL AS "FEAR" AND "A LOVE AGAINST ALL ODDS" BECAUSE I'M GETTING MORE IDEAS, BUT I KNOW I CAN'T WRITE THEM UNTIL I FINISH SOME OF THESE, LOL! ANYWAY, PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW! ENJOY!  
  
OH, AND DON'T FORGET -- THE REASON THIS DOESN'T SUCK IS BECAUSE I HAVE AN AWESOME STORY CONSULTANT! LOL. :-) YOU CAN SING NATCHOU'S PRAISES IN THE REVIEWS!!  
  
As she tossed and turned that night, Monica found herself helplessly lost in a labyrinth of disturbing dreams. As she drifted from one scenario to another, she found that all of her dreams kept returning to the same one. She saw herself scrubbing on her hands and knees, not such an unfamiliar idea except for the strange surroundings. She was in an enormous kitchen, one that most definitely was not her own and was not in a restaurant. Suddenly she heard Chandler's voice from above her and she looked up. It was as though a light was behind him, so all she could see was his silhouette hovering above her.  
"You missed a spot." She squinted into the light, trying to focus on his face, but suddenly he was gone and Kathy's sneering face was in his place.  
"He's mine now, you know. You'll never be anything more than our maid, so get over it." She laughed, and although Monica couldn't see Chandler, she could hear his laugh from somewhere nearby. She felt her cheeks flush and her eyes burn with angry tears as she dropped her head once more and focused on the floor that swam before her as her eyes filled. As she scrubbed, there suddenly appeared a horde of children, all of whom looked like miniature Kathys and miniature Chandlers. "Scrub the floors, Monica... Clean my clothes, Monica... Make me a snack, Monica..." As the demands escalated to a deafening level, Monica dropped the brush she had been cleaning with and began to rock back and forth with her hands over her ears as the tears rolled down her cheeks.   
"Stop, please, just stop, I can't handle this..." Suddenly she jolted awake, and although she saw that the children and the happy couple were gone, the dampness on her cheeks remained. She sat up in bed and hugged her knees to her chest as she resumed the rocking that she'd been doing in her dream. "I really CAN'T handle this," she whispered as she buried her face in her knees, too afraid of her own dreams to go back to sleep. She longed for Chandler's arms to hug her and his soothing voice to comfort her, and her yearning was so strong that she felt as though she could literally feel it stabbing her through the heart. She'd never felt so desperate for anything in her life, and the fact that she couldn't do anything to change it made her feel as though she were being suffocated, as though someone had a pillow over her face and was oblivious to her screaming, her suffocating, and her desperation. She let herself cry, hoping that it would purge some of the anguish, but at the same time knowing that nothing could help her when she was still without Chandler.  
  
"Monica?" Mon sighed resignedly as she heard Pete's unmistakable booming voice as he entered her apartment the next morning. After her relatively sleepless and extremely emotionally draining night, the absolute last thing she wanted was to have to deal with her supposed fiance.   
"Coming," she replied from the bathroom as she dried her face and tucked her hair behind her ears. After checking her reflection quickly to make sure she had managed to lose the psycho-killer look that had resulted from her restless night, she slowly opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the apartment. "Hi," she said quietly, almost apprehensive of what he was going to do and say.  
"Hey," he answered gently. They stood apart, the awkward silence mounting until Pete spoke once again. "Monica, what's going on? What was wrong yesterday, and what's wrong now?"  
"What makes you think something's wrong?" Monica asked dully, knowing it was a stupid question. Pete sighed.  
"Oh, I don't know, just a hunch. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that my fiancee is apparently not too happy that I'm back in town. That she doesn't even want to touch me, let alone kiss me. Monica, did something happen while I was gone?" Monica remained thoughtfully silent, wondering what the answer to that would be. In a way, yes something had happened: her entire world had been not only turned upside down but thrown through a wringer, beaten like scrambled eggs, shaken like a martini, and scattered like a thousand marbles dropped from a bucket. Then again, at the same time, the answer was a resounding no. Nothing had exactly changed, not from the new alternate-world version of her life, anyway. Nothing that Pete would understand. Hell, nothing that Chandler, Rachel, or even Monica herself understood. When she realized that she'd been standing in silence for a good few minutes, she stared at him as she tried to come up with a response.  
"Not exactly." She felt oddly satisfied with that. Not a lie, but not truthful enough to make her sound as bonkers as she felt. Pete's reaction, however -- a demanding stare -- implied that he was not as satisfied.  
"Well, then, what the hell is going on?" While his voice was still relatively calm, she could see that he was getting irritated, and while she was generally not too pleased with HIM, she could understand his annoyance. There was really no good reason for her to be angry with him, but she found that she still couldn't help herself. His referring to himself as her fiance only reminded her of Chandler, thereby reminding her of how much she loved and wanted Chandler, as well as the fact that Pete wasn't him.  
"I don't know," she said, glad once again that she hadn't had to lie. With all of the tumultuous thoughts and emotions swirling around in her head at that moment, she knew that she wouldn't be able to handle maintaining a story of lies as well. After a moment of silence, Pete spoke in a calm voice.  
"Are you having second thoughts?" Monica contemplated his question for a moment. In a way, yes, she was having second thoughts because she knew she didn't want to marry him, yet at the same time she didn't think she could have second thoughts when she didn't remember ever having first thoughts. She sighed, and when she didn't answer, Pete tried a simpler question. "Do you still want to get married?" She looked at him intently, glad to finally know a straight-out answer, but afraid of how to word it.  
"No," she eventually managed. His face fell, and while she was relieved that she'd said it, she felt instantly guilty. She knew how it felt to lose a fiance, and while their situations were extremely different, she felt saddened at knowing she'd caused him at least some of the same pain that she herself was dealing with. "Pete, I'm so sorry."  
"Is it something I did?" he asked quietly, moving his gaze between her apologetic face and the floor.  
"No," she said again. "You didn't do anything. It's not you, it's me. I just... I'm going through some stuff, and I... I just can't marry you. I'm sorry," she repeated.  
"Is there someone else?" he asked after a moment. She stared at him for a few seconds as she pondered his question.  
"Sort of," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. When he looked at her, his face an expression of both surprise and hurt, she elaborated. "I'm not seeing someone else or anything... I'm not cheating on you. It's more... it's an unresolved situation from the past that I haven't dealt with." There. Another truth. Not an entire truth, but a truth all the same. "I'm sorry," she said again, knowing that although it didn't help, she somehow couldn't stop apologizing. Pete took a deep breath and straightened slightly.  
"It's okay," he said quietly. "I mean, it's not okay, but... well, you know." He paused. "If there wasn't someone else..." He trailed off, turning his gaze to the floor. "Forget it." He took another breath and looked up once more. "So long, Mon."  
"Goodbye, Pete," she said softly as he turned and walked out, closing the apartment door quietly behind him. As she stood in the middle of her apartment, she tried to determine what she was feeling. While there was, without a doubt, a certain relief at knowing she no longer had to pretend that she was engaged to Pete, there was also the expected remorse at having probably broken his heart. In the long run, though, she knew that she would have eventually hurt him anyway, given that she was in love with Chandler, and so she tried to tell herself that it was best to do it sooner rather than later. She sighed as she stared at the door, suddenly feeling very alone. She realized that she had barely spoken to Rachel since the morning she'd flipped out, and the rest of the gang had more or less gone AWOL. Not that she was entirely upset by their minimal presence. While they were, of course, her best friends, she almost felt as though they were impostors and that her real friends and her real Chandler were off living in some parallel universe with an impostor Monica. She sighed. "You're losing it," she muttered to herself as she half-heartedly straightened the couch cushions. "Then again," she thought, "nothing in this world seems real all of a sudden." She tried to push the thoughts out of her mind as she wandered into the kitchen to make something to eat.  
  
"Hey." Monica looked up from her magazine and turned around as she sat on the couch, surprised to see Chandler standing in the doorway. She'd been suspecting that he'd been avoiding her for the past couple of days, but at the same time she couldn't prove it, given that she didn't know what their relationship was supposed to be like, now that he was engaged to someone else and she was back to being just his friend who lived across the hall.  
"Hey," she replied warily as she put her magazine on the coffee table.  
"How's it going?" he asked awkwardly as he closed the door behind him. He looked at her carefully, wondering if she'd gotten over whatever it was that had made her act so wacko.  
"Okay," she replied shortly, wondering what he was doing in her apartment. He cleared his throat nervously as he walked over and sat in the chair next to her couch.   
"I, uh... I saw Rach at Central Perk this afternoon," he said uneasily. "She, uh, she said that you and Pete broke up?" Monica nodded, tired of trying to explain things to people. When she'd told Rachel that things with Pete were over, she'd been grilled for what seemed like hours for an explanation and for details. After that, she'd decided to simply give everyone minimal explanations. She was tired of trying to describe to other people the emotions and situations that she didn't even understand herself. "Are... are you okay?"  
"I'm fine," she said quietly. She sensed that he wanted to ask what had happened, but at the same time he didn't want to be nosy. Any other time she probably would have opened up to him, but once again she found that she simply didn't have the energy, so she let him wonder. He nodded.  
"Anything I can do?"  
"You can remember what we were, you can take me and hold me in your arms and kiss me and make love to me and marry me," she thought. But she was painfully aware that if she said anything like that, he'd think she'd reverted back to delirious Monica, and while she hated living in a constant state of confusion, she hated it even more when her friends treated her like a schizophrenic. "No, I'm okay. Thanks, though." Chandler nodded again, and as they sat in uncomfortable silence, Monica suddenly had a thought.  
"Where's Kathy?" Chandler thought he detected a touch of disdain in her voice when she said Kathy's name, but he dismissed it as his own ears playing tricks on him.  
"Poughkeepsie," he replied. "She went with her mother to pick up her wedding dress up there. They're staying overnight with a cousin of hers and aren't coming back until tomorrow." Monica nodded, suddenly having an idea. She knew it was a long shot and would probably never work, but she knew that it was the best idea she'd had since she'd landed in this alternate universe.  
"In that case, yeah, there's something you can do." He nodded warmly, encouraging her to continue. "Want to have dinner tonight? I mean, Rachel's got a date, as usual, and I wouldn't mind the company." Chandler smiled kindly and she grinned back.  
"Sure," he said. "What time and where?"  
"Well, I was going to make a chicken casserole, so if you want to just come over around seven or so..." she trailed off, suddenly nervous.  
"Sure," he repeated. "Sounds good. Want me to bring anything?" Monica shook her head.  
"Just come on over."  
"Okay. See you at seven, then."   
"Okay," Monica replied, smiling as he rose from the seat and left the apartment.  
As he stepped outside her apartment and closed the door behind him, Chandler sighed. He'd been worried about Monica for the past couple of days, and was relieved to see that she was at least over the frantic dementia that had seemed to occupy her personality. He wondered why she'd been so insistent that they'd once been together and why she'd made up such an elaborate story. While the explanation that she'd simply had a vivid dream seemed inadequate and almost impossible, he couldn't think of anything better and so he simply accepted it, not allowing himself to question it. He sighed once more and walked into his apartment, hoping that Monica was finally returning to normal.  
  
Monica bent to check the chicken casserole that was baking in the oven and then rose and smoothed the front of her dress nervously. After much deliberation, she had decided to wear the same dress she'd worn on the night of their anniversary celebration -- a night that seemed to have taken place so long ago, but in reality was in the relatively recent past. She gave the kitchen table the once-over, satisfied when it looked exactly as it had not thirty seconds ago -- impeccable. She looked at the candles skeptically, wondering if they were a bit too much. As she heard a knock at the door, she quickly grabbed the candles and the holders and hid them behind the couch cushions as she quickly moved toward the door.   
"Hey," she greeted him, smiling.  
"Wow... now I feel underdressed," he said, noticing the nice dress she was wearing and the fact that her hair was tied up in a clip -- the same way it had been not a week earlier.  
"Oh, don't worry about it," she assured him. "I just... you know... any reason to get dressed up," she stammered, desperately searching for a valid explanation.  
"Oh," he said simply, nodding and accepting it as a "girl thing."  
"Come in," Monica said hurriedly, suddenly noticing that they were still standing in the doorway.  
"Thanks," he replied, entering the apartment. As he walked past her, Monica felt a pang in her heart as she caught a trace of the scent that she'd become so attached to, one that she hadn't even realized she was missing until she recognized it once again. The combined scents of his aftershave, soap, and shampoo brought the memories of that Chandler-smell rushing back, along with it the recollection of how many times she'd buried her face in his neck and breathed in the smell of him, feeling safe and happy in his embrace. It amazed her how something as simple as a smell could cause such a deep ache and longing.  
"You okay?" His voice interrupted her thoughts, and Monica realized with a start that she was still standing by the door, lost in her own mind. She blushed, aware of how ridiculous she must have looked.  
"Yeah, sorry, just thinking. Um, dinner's almost ready."  
"Cool," he said affably. "It smells great."  
"Thanks," she said, suddenly nervous. She felt ridiculous at feeling nervous around him -- after all, they had been engaged. "Then again," she reminded herself silently, "this is a different Chandler. This is my friend Chandler. The friend with whom I've never been romantically involved." She realized that was exactly the problem -- she didn't know how to act around him, because this wasn't the Chandler she'd gotten used to. It was as if she were expected to act like she acted around him four years ago when they were simply friends and neighbors and nothing more. She hastily pushed those thoughts away and forced herself to smile at him. "Want something to drink? I have some wine."  
"That sounds good," he agreed. "Want me to open it?"  
"Sure. Thanks." She watched out of the corner of her eye as he opened the bottle, feeling silly at how sad it made her. The more she was around him, the more she realized that she missed those little things like the way he opened the wine bottles and the pickle jars. The way he drummed his fingers impatiently while he waited for the coffeepot to boil in the mornings and the way he reached across her every morning to shut off the alarm clock so that she wouldn't have to. The way he would absently run his fingertips over her shoulder when he had his arm around her while they sat on the couch. The way he'd come in after work and grin at her, a special smile, it seemed, that he reserved just for her. Then, of course, there were the bigger things: the way he kissed her, the way he made love to her, and the way he existed as the center of her world and her rock of solidarity.  
"Mon?" Once again jolted back to reality, Monica blushed slightly and silently reprimanded herself for allowing her mind to run away with her again. If she kept losing touch with the present, he was going to start thinking she'd really lost it. He held the bottle toward her, his expression slightly concerned. "Want me to pour?" She nodded quickly and watched as he poured the wine, determined not to drift away again. He held her glass out toward her and grinned.  
"So..." He looked around the apartment uneasily, wondering if he should approach the subject of the past week or simply try to act normal. "You look great, by the way."   
"Thanks." Mon blushed and forced herself not to take his comment to mean more than it did. "You too." Chandler looked down at his khakis and black v-neck sweater skeptically.  
"Oh, yeah, I'm a real stud over here." Monica laughed and he grinned, pleased that he'd been able to make her laugh. He'd become increasingly worried about her over the course of the past few days, largely in part to her bizarre behavior, but his concerns eased when he noted that she seemed to be acting much more like the levelheaded and collected Monica that he knew so well.  
"So, um, dinner's about ready if you want to sit down..."  
"Sure." Chandler took a seat as Monica placed her glass on the table and proceeded to take the casserole out of the oven. She quickly dished up two servings and placed them on the table, one at each setting.  
"Wow, this looks fantastic," Chandler complimented her as he placed his napkin in his lap.   
"Thanks," Monica said, blushing. "It's just a casserole... it's not gourmet dining."  
"Mon, you're talking to a guy who LIVES on takeout... your cooking is the only food I ever get that doesn't come in cartons or a big, flat box." Mon laughed as she took a forkful of her dinner. They ate in relative quietness, Monica wanting to savor the feeling of being alone with him again and Chandler not wanting to say something that would upset her again.   
"Well, that was delicious. Thanks, Mon. I swear, it's a good thing I don't live here, I'd be about thirty pounds heavier, at least." Monica's face clouded slightly when she remembered that he DIDN'T live there, and it was becoming increasingly possible that he never would again.  
"My pleasure," she managed, suddenly remembering the next part of her plan. The only real part she had left, given that nothing had even come close to being resolved so far. "Hey, how about some music?"  
"Sure," Chandler agreed, moving from the kitchen table to the couch. "Hey, if I forget to say it later, thanks a lot for dinner and for keeping me entertained tonight. We haven't hung out in awhile... this has been fun." Monica tried to send him a genuine smile, but she was fairly certain that she failed, given that the friend Chandler was only making her miss her fiance more and more.  
"Well, thank you for coming over. I've had a good time, too." He grinned at her and she turned hurriedly to the stereo, putting in the CD and skipping it forward to the track she wanted. She smiled nervously as the words filled the room, the same lyrics she and Chandler had danced to on the evening of their anniversary.   
  
Every time our eyes meet,  
This feeling inside me,  
Is almost more than I can take.  
And baby when you touch me,  
I can feel how much you love me,  
And it just blows me away.  
I've never been this close to anyone  
Or anything,  
I can hear your thoughts,  
I can see your dreams.  
  
"Wow, this is a good song," Chandler said thoughtfully as he took another sip of his wine. "It sounds familiar." Monica felt her heart leap into her throat as she looked at him hopefully, not daring to believe that he was finally remembering.  
"Really? It does?"   
"Yeah..." He looked at her thoughtfully, trying to remember where he'd heard it before. It was hazy, but he was fairly certain that he recognized both the lyrics and the melody. But from where?  
  
I don't know how you do what you do,  
I'm so in love with you,  
It just keeps getting better.  
I wanna spend the rest of my life  
With you by my side  
Forever and ever.  
Every little thing that you do,  
Baby, I'm amazed by you.  
  
"Who's the band?" he asked as he spun his glass around between his fingers, trying hard to place it.  
"Lonestar," Monica answered quietly, hoping against hope that her plan was working. She stared at him as his brow furrowed in concentration as he listened to the lyrics.   
"Hmm... man, where the hell do I know this from?" He was suddenly irritated as he tried to place the song. "I KNOW I've heard this before. I'm sure of it." Monica wanted to jump up and tell him where he'd heard it before, but she wanted him to remember for himself. She didn't want him to think she'd done her nut again.  
  
The smell of your skin,  
The taste of your kiss,  
The way you whisper in the dark.  
Your hair all around me,  
Baby you surround me,  
Touch every place in my heart.  
Oh, it feels like the first time every time,  
I wanna spend the whole night in your arms,  
I don't know how you do what you do,  
I'm so in love with you,  
It just keeps getting better.  
I wanna spend the rest of my life  
With you by my side  
Forever and ever.  
Every little thing that you do,  
Baby, I'm amazed by you.  
  
Suddenly Chandler's face took on a funny expression as he leaned back into the couch. "I remember." Monica felt her heart skip a beat.  
"You do?"  
"Yeah." He turned and smiled warmly at her. "It's the song Kathy wants to dance to at the wedding reception." Monica felt her hopes come crashing down as she stared at him in disbelief. She had thought that it was finally working... that he was starting to remember and that there was hope after all. She could feel the threat of the onset of tears, and she quickly rose from the couch, taking her glass to the sink.  
"Oh. She likes this song, huh?" She quickly wiped the few tears that had fallen as she stood over the sink and took a deep breath, trying desperately to stop any more from falling.  
"Yeah. I KNEW I'd heard it before." He rose and joined her at the sink, placing his glass next to hers after he had rinsed it out. "I can't believe I'm getting married." Monica turned her face away from him, blinking furiously to prevent the tears that she knew weren't far.  
"Yeah. Can't believe it," she repeated quietly. She heard Chandler chuckle slightly as he gazed out the kitchen window.   
"Me. Married. I never thought it would happen. Bet you guys didn't see this coming either, huh?"  
"Not exactly," she replied truthfully. She hadn't seen it coming. Not like this. Not in a million years.   
"I'm actually in love," Chandler whispered as he stared out the window, oblivious to Monica's pained expression. "Finally. I love someone and she loves me back." He paused. "It's the best feeling in the world."  
"Yeah," Monica said quietly. "That it is." Suddenly Chandler seemed to return to reality and he looked at her profile carefully.  
"Mon?"  
"Yeah?"  
"You okay?"  
"Yeah." Suddenly his eyes flickered and he sighed.  
"Oh, God, Monica, I'm so sorry. I can't believe I was that insensitive. Going on about Kathy and the wedding when you and Pete just broke up. I'm so sorry... I feel like the biggest jerk."  
"Don't," she said simply. "I'm not upset about Pete." She knew he wouldn't believe her, but she also knew it didn't matter. She was upset about something, and since she couldn't tell him what, she was perfectly willing to let him believe whatever he wanted.  
"I'm sorry," he repeated, silently scolding himself for rambling on like he had. He placed his hands on her shoulders and forced her to face him. Looking into her eyes, he could see that she was hurting, and although he didn't really understand why, he could recognize the pain nonetheless. He'd known her for years and she was practically his best friend. As he gazed at her, he found himself wishing that he could fix whatever was wrong. "Monica, is everything okay?" She shrugged as she felt her eyes welling up again and she looked at the floor, wishing she could simply curl up and be left alone. "What is it?"  
"I just wish you remembered," she whispered after a moment. She knew that she was probably going to freak him out again, but she was tired of pretending that she belonged in this strange new situation.  
"Remembered?"  
"Yeah."  
"Remembered what?" She looked up at him, her eyes brimming and begging.  
"Remembered us." Chandler looked at her in confusion for a moment before he registered what she was saying and sighed.  
"I thought you were over that," he said quietly, suddenly concerned once again about her. He really had thought she'd gotten over whatever it was that was wrong with her.  
"I could never get over you," she whispered, looking at the floor once again. He sighed again.  
"Monica..."   
"Forget it," she said, quickly cutting him off. She knew that if he didn't remember for himself, no amount of convincing was going to suddenly enlighten him. He looked down at her skeptically, wondering what he could say or do to make her feel better but at the same time realizing that there didn't appear to be anything he COULD do.  
"Mon, hon, are you going to be okay?" She looked up at him, a mixture of resignation and sad surrender in her eyes.  
"I'll have to be." She tried to smile, but knew that she had failed. "Listen, I'm kind of tired, so..."  
"Yeah, I'll head home. Thanks again for dinner." Monica simply nodded and he tried to think of something comforting to say to her, but couldn't come up with anything. "Well... goodnight."  
"'Night," Monica replied as she walked him to the door, saw him out, and closed it behind him. "Goodnight and goodbye, Chandler Bing." She allowed the tears to roll silently down her cheeks as she walked into her bedroom and closed the door behind her.  
  
YAY! PART THREE DONE! PART FOUR WILL BE UP SOON... PROBABLY A LOT QUICKER THAN IT TOOK TO DO PARTS ONE THROUGH THREE, LOL. THAT'S WHAT I'M AIMING FOR, ANYWAY! THANKS FOR READING... PLEEEEEEEASE LEAVE A REVIEW AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! THANK YOU!!! :-)   
  



	4. Chapter Four

PART FOUR... I KNOW YOU'RE SHOCKED THAT IT GOT DONE SO QUICKLY, LOL. :-) ANYWAY, THANK YOU TO THE PEOPLE WHO LEFT REVIEWS FOR THE LAST PART(S) -- THEY ARE MUCH APPRECIATED! PLEASE CONTINUE THE TREND... LEAVE ONE FOR THIS PART, AS WELL! ANYWAY... THE END IS NEAR... ENJOY!  
  
Tomorrow. As she sat on the window seat looking through a photo album, Monica allowed the tears to roll freely down her cheeks, not bothering to fight them. Chandler, her Chandler, the love of her life, would be married tomorrow. Tomorrow he would promise to love another woman forever, and they would go off and start a life of their own. She ran her fingertips gently around the edge of one of the pages in her album, a page that had somehow managed to end up with only pictures of her and Chandler on it. The first one had been taken back when they'd all gone to Montauk to see Phoebe's birth mom -- it was of Chandler standing in the water with Monica on his shoulders. The second was from the night of one of Ross's museum benefits -- they were both dressed up and Chandler had his arm around her waist as they smiled, each with a glass of champagne in their hands. Her favorite, though, was the third one on the page. It was newer than the other two, and it was simply Chandler sitting on the couch and Monica had leaned over from behind him and draped her arms over his shoulders. She was grinning at the camera and he was grinning sideways at her. She felt another pang as she realized that, as much as anything, she missed that familiarity that she'd had with him. Underneath all of the passion and romance he had always been her best friend, and suddenly not only had she lost the love of her life, she'd lost her best friend as well. She sighed as she gazed at the pictures from so long ago. "If only I'd seen it earlier," she thought to herself as she looked at the photos of their younger days. "He never would have gotten involved with Kathy in the first place." She sighed. "If only I'd realized." As she heard a familiar song begin to play on the radio, she quietly leaned forward and turned up the volume, her tears starting once again as the relativity of the lyrics hit her.  
  
It's time to let you go,  
It's time to say goodbye,  
There's no more excuses,  
No more tears to cry.  
There's been so many changes,  
I was so confused,  
All along you were the one,  
All the time I never knew.  
  
I want you to be happy,  
You're my best friend.  
But it's so hard to let you go now,  
All that could have been.  
I'll always have the memories,  
She'll always have you.  
Fate has a way of changing,  
Just when you don't want it to.  
  
Throw away the chains,  
Let love fly away.  
'Till love comes again,  
I'll be okay.  
  
Life passes so quickly,  
You've gotta take the time.  
Or you'll miss what really matters,  
You'll miss all the signs.  
I've spent my life searching  
For what was always there.  
Sometimes it will be too late,  
Sometimes it won't be fair.  
  
Throw away the chains,  
Let love fly away.  
'Till love comes again,  
I'll be okay.  
  
I won't give up,  
I won't give in,   
I can't recreate  
What just might have been.  
I know that my heart  
Will find love again,  
Now is the time to begin.  
Throw away the chains,  
Let love fly away,  
'Till love comes again,  
I'll be okay.  
  
As the song ended, Monica glanced around the apartment, attempting to dry the tears that were still falling. She was glad that no one was around -- Ross and Joey were both at Chandler's bachelor party and Rachel and Phoebe had gone to Kathy's bash. Monica had been invited as well, but she was fully aware of the fact that she would undoubtedly be unable to contain her emotions while listening to Kathy's pre-wedding gushing and jittering, and so she'd told them that she wasn't feeling well. It wasn't entirely a lie -- after all, she DIDN'T feel well -- she had a broken heart and she felt like hell. All she could think about was that in less than 24 hours, Chandler would be someone else's husband, and they would be on their way to the Caribbean to celebrate their honeymoon. The idea of Chandler on a honeymoon with another woman made Monica feel physically ill, and she hastily pushed the thought away. Suddenly overcome by the desperation of her situation, she rose from the window seat and closed the album forcefully, placing it below the lid of the seat and then closing the bench and covering it with a blanket. She looked around at the apartment, ultimately deciding that cleaning would be the best thing to do -- it would minimize the reminders of Chandler and would give her something to concentrate on. She flipped through the radio stations until she found a more upbeat song, an old Springsteen hit that she loved, turned up the volume, and quickly began to vacuum.  
  
"Monica, you ready?" Rachel was buzzing around the apartment, frantically searching for her earrings. "Mon?" Suddenly the door opened and Phoebe walked in. "Hey, Pheebs! Wow, you look so pretty!" Phoebe grinned. "Monica! Come on, Chandler wants us to be at the church in half an hour!" Mon emerged slowly from her bedroom, dressed and ready to go. "Aw, sweetie, you look great." Monica mumbled a thank you, closed her bedroom door, and walked toward them.   
"You also kinda look like hell, though," Phoebe observed. Monica simply looked at her, not even surprised at Phoebe's bluntness. "I mean... you look upset... your clothes look great, but you look... upset. Are you okay?" Monica nodded.   
"Just tired. Didn't get much sleep last night." Phoebe nodded, and then giggled.  
"You should see Chandler. He looks like he didn't sleep a wink, but even so, I've never seen him so wired. I think he must have had, like, twelve cups of coffee already... the man is borderline hyperactive."   
"Well, if Mr. Commitment-phobe were calm on his wedding day, we'd KNOW there was something wrong," Rachel commented, laughing.   
Monica tried to hide her misery, hoping that both Phoebe and Rachel were too excited to notice her less than enthusiastic mood. While she wasn't about to do something dramatic in an attempt to stop Chandler's wedding, she had never felt so filled with dread in her entire life. Ultimately, regardless of what happened, she loved him enough to want him to be happy, and if marrying Kathy would do it, she wasn't going to ruin it for him.  
"Mon?" Rachel's voice interrupted her thoughts and she frowned slightly when Monica jumped.  
"Yeah?"  
"You ready?" Monica nodded. "Sweetie, are you sure you're okay?" Rachel asked, concerned at her roommate's apparent despondency.  
"I'm fine," Monica assured her. "Let's go." She grabbed her purse and exited the apartment, and after sharing a concerned look, Rachel and Phoebe followed.  
  
As they entered the church, Monica sighed when she saw the flowers attached to each pew. She remembered how much time she'd spent trying to organize her and Chandler's wedding, and being in the decorated church suddenly brought it all rushing back. She felt her eyes mist and she quickly blinked, determined not to make a scene. She knew she had to get over him and allow him to be happy, and although she couldn't imagine that being possible, she knew that she didn't have a choice. Her reminiscing was interrupted by Phoebe's voice.  
"Look, there are the guys!" Monica turned and followed her gaze, taking a deep breath to steady her ragged breathing when she saw Chandler. He was standing in between Ross and Joey, his best men, obviously undergoing a pep talk. The girls approached them smiling warmly, Monica trailing slightly behind Rachel and Phoebe. "Hey, Mr. Groom-to-Be," Rachel greeted him. He smiled nervously.  
"Hey, guys. You all look great." The girls said their various thank-you's and Rachel was the first to hug him.  
"Congratulations, Chandler, you guys are going to be so happy."  
"Thanks, Rach." Phoebe followed suit, giving him a hug and advising him that if he carried the testicle of a bull in his pocket, it would make his marriage a fertile one. "Uh, thanks, Pheebs... if I'd have known I would have looked into that."  
"Hey, I can see if my friend Fritzi can find you one before the ceremony... she's good at that kind of stuff."  
"No, that's okay," he assured her quickly. "Rented tux." Phoebe seemed to accept this excuse and smiled once more, stepping aside to allow Monica to congratulate him. Chandler glanced at her nervously as she took a deep breath.  
"Congratulations," she whispered as she hugged him and felt him wrap his arms around her gently.  
"Thanks," he whispered back, and while she thought he hugged her a second longer than the others, she dismissed the feeling quickly, not wanting to make things harder than they already were. As she pulled away, she noticed the concerned look in his eyes and she suddenly felt guilty -- he was worried about her and it was supposed to be his special day. She tried to smile at him to reassure him that she was all right, and felt slightly better when he smiled back. "You look great," he said, not wanting their conversation to be so short and formal. She forced another smile.  
"Thanks, so do you." And he did, his tux fitting him perfectly, the gray vest contrasting nicely with his clear blue eyes that held an undeniable sparkle. He grinned again.  
"Thanks." Monica lowered her voice in an attempt to make the air less heavy. "Good call on the bull's ball... probably not exactly a fashion statement. Don't worry, though, I put some in the sandwiches for the reception." Chandler beamed, elated to hear her joking around.  
"Sounds... delicious," he lied. She smiled once more, pleased with herself for managing not to let her depression dictate her words. "Okay," he said, addressing the group as he nervously rubbed his hands together. "Can you guys seat people? I mean, I know that those... usher-people are supposed to do that, but I'd... I'd just feel a lot better if you guys were helping out. Is that okay?" They all assured him that it was no problem and he smiled gratefully. "Thanks, guys. Listen, before this all turns into... well, chaos, I just want to say... thank you. You guys are more like my family than anything and... well... just... I love you guys." They all smiled warmly and Rachel hugged him again.   
"We all love you, too," she replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I see that the first guest has arrived." She walked toward the doors of the church, greeting the arriving guests with a smile. Phoebe followed suit with Joey close behind. Monica smiled once more at Chandler before she turned to follow them. Ross went to fall in step beside her, but was yanked back by Chandler.  
"Dude, stay here, keep me calm. I know Joey's my best man, too, but... well, y'know... he's Joey. I need... some words of wisdom." Ross nodded and Monica walked toward where the guests were beginning to trickle in at a steady flow. She smiled at the first couple who weren't being advised yet and approached them, trying to be cheerful despite the aching void that had taken over the space where her heart used to beat.  
  
"Mrs. Bing!" Monica tried to maintain the false happiness that had successfully been her disposition for the past half an hour. Seeing Chandler's mother only deepened her feeling of loss -- she had looked forward to being her daughter-in-law, as she always got along with Nora better than her own mother.  
"Monica, dear... Nora, remember?"  
"Right, Nora," Monica agreed, nodding. "Would you like me to take you to see Chandler?"  
"I'd love that," Nora agreed, smiling proudly. "Can you believe it? Chandler getting married."  
"No, Nora, I'm not sure that I can," she replied honestly, fighting to keep her voice light. "Ross!" She grabbed hold of his jacket as he walked by them. "Where's Chandler?"  
"Bathroom," Ross replied. "Those numerous cups of coffee are catching up with him." Monica nodded as he continued toward the guests to seat some more.  
"Well, Nora... you look lovely."  
"Why, thank you, Monica. You look beautiful... I love your hair up like that!"   
"Oh, thanks," Monica said, nervously touching her twist. "My mother hates it when I wear it up."  
"Oh, don't be silly, it looks wonderful," Nora assured her. Monica smiled and blushed, her expression suddenly changing when she saw the necklace around Nora's neck. It was, without a doubt, the same necklace that Chandler had given her the last time they'd been together. She swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to sustain her smile.  
"That's a beautiful necklace," she said lightly.  
"Oh, thank you. You know, this used to belong to Chandler's grandmother," Nora said as she reached up and touched the choker.  
"Really?" Monica asked, trying to sound curious.  
"Yes, Mr. Bing's mother gave it to me shortly before she died. It was one of her most valuable possessions, as well as one of her most prized. She seemed to think it was magical or something."  
"Magical?" Monica repeated, now genuinely curious. Nora laughed slightly and waved her hand dismissively and tapped her head with her index finger.  
"Yeah... I don't think old Granny Bing was all there, if you know what I mean. Still, she seemed to think it held some magical powers or some nonsense like that. Apparently it belonged to an older relative of hers who gave it to her on her wedding day, telling her some superstitious tale about how it could read thoughts and dictate them to life, or some such gibberish. Like, on wedding days, if the bride was unsure about marrying the groom, it would doom the marriage, but if she never questioned the union, it would be a blessed marriage." Nora shrugged nonchalantly. "I just wear it because I think it's unique."  
"Yes, it is," Monica replied half-heartedly, deep in thought. "There's Chandler, "she said after a moment, pointing toward the back of the church.  
"Ah, yes, there he is. Well, Monica, it was wonderful talking to you. I'm sure I'll get to speak with you at the reception." Monica nodded silently and watched as Nora approached Chandler and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Her mind was awash with Nora's words and the tale of the necklace. While she had never in her life believed in superstitions or old wives' tales, she suddenly found herself considering the possibility of the necklace's role in her current situation. If what Chandler's grandmother had believed held some truth, perhaps it was possible. She tried to push the thoughts away, dismissing them as absurd, but at the same time the entire situation was absurd -- suddenly waking up with her whole life in a mess was far from normal and if something as illogical as that could happen, surely a necklace could perhaps be more than just a necklace?  
  
"Hi, Mom," Chandler greeted Nora as she approached him.  
"Hi, sweetheart," she replied as she kissed him on the cheek. "You look so handsome."  
"Thanks," he replied. "You look... very nice." He noted gratefully that she was wearing a dress that covered almost everything. "I like the necklace."  
"Oh, thanks," she answered. "I was just telling Monica the story."  
"Story?" Chandler repeated.  
"Sweetheart, I'm sure I told you this one." He shook his head, encouraging her to continue. He could use a good story to take his mind off of the pending nuptials. "It was your grandmother's," she reminded him.  
"Oh, yeah, that's right. I never heard the story, though."  
"Oh, well, Granny Bing, gave it to me on the day that I married your father. She said that it was a special necklace, and that her family believed that it held special... powers, I guess you could say."  
"Powers?" Chandler asked skeptically. Nora laughed.  
"I know it sounds bogus, but it's a good story. She said that it all had to do with the power of the mind, especially the mind of the couple getting married. If one or both of them was questioning their marriage or their love, it would jeopardize their marriage, but if neither of them ever let themselves wonder, things would all go smoothly."  
"Wow... sounds like there's a good reason you and Dad lasted so long, huh?" Chandler joked. "Must have been the necklace... forget about his... homosexual tendencies."  
"Don't remind me," Nora said, rolling her eyes. She was silent for a moment before she reached up and touched the necklace thoughtfully. "Come to think of it..." She trailed off as she reached behind her neck and undid the clasp that held it together. She extended it toward him and smiled. "I think it's time for the necklace to make another transition." She placed it in his hand and smiled.  
"Mom, I can't take this from you... Granny Bing gave it to you, you should keep it."  
"Oh, Chandler, don't be silly. I have plenty of things to remember her by, and besides... I know that she would have wanted your bride to have it."  
"Are you sure?" he asked, looking at her doubtfully.  
"Of course I am," she assured him. "I think it will look lovely on Kathy." Chandler nodded in agreement and put the necklace carefully in his pocket. "Thank you, Mom." Nora nodded and smiled as her son leaned in to hug her.   
"Congratulations, Chandler." He grinned as he pulled back from the hug.  
"Thanks. You ready to watch your son get married?"  
"As ready as a mother can be," she said with a smile. He grinned back and took her hand to lead her to the front pew. As he indicated for her to sit down, he smiled once more and told her that they'd be starting in about ten minutes. She nodded and waved for him to go get ready. As he headed back toward the back of the church to find Ross, he spotted Monica sitting alone in the back row, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. He quietly approached her and slid into the pew next to her.  
"Hey," he said softly.  
"Hi," she responded, slightly surprised at his sudden appearance.  
"How's it going?" he asked, hoping that she knew his question was a lot deeper than it implied.   
If she recognized it as such, she chose to ignore it as she answered simply, "I'm fine thanks." He looked at her carefully and sighed. He'd known her for years and despite the fact that things had changed dramatically in the past few weeks, he could still read her emotions fairly well, and that moment was no exception. While she was doing her best to hide it, he could see that she was upset and was hurting, and he wished with all his heart that he knew what to do to make her feel better. He took another deep breath as he leaned back against the back of the pew.   
"Monica, I'm sorry," he said quietly. She turned to face him, puzzled.  
"What for?" she asked. He looked at her carefully, trying to articulate the thoughts that swam around in his mind.  
"I'm not entirely certain," he admitted. "But basically I'm sorry that you're hurting and that I can't make it better. I wish I knew what it was that I'd done... I'd fix it in a second, you know that." He paused and sighed. "I'm just... I'm sorry that you're upset and that it's apparently my doing. Monica, you're my best friend, and you know I would never do anything to hurt you."   
"I know, hon," she said in a small voice. "I know. Listen, I'm fine, honestly. Don't worry about me, I'm just... thinking. I was actually thinking about the catering for the reception," she lied. He looked at her skeptically as the minister appeared before them.   
"We're ready to start, Mr. Bing," he informed them.  
"Thank you," Chandler replied absently as he looked sideways at Monica. While she looked up at the minister and said something about wedding ceremonies, he allowed his mind to wander back to when he used to have a crush on her. While he'd never told anyone, not even Joey, he'd had quite the crush on her before Kathy. He'd even gone as far as posing a hypothetical relationship to her, and he'd been annoyed when she'd apparently found it funny enough to laugh. As the minister walked away and Monica lowered her gaze and looked at her hands, Chandler looked at her thoughtfully as he absently ran the pearls through his hand, which was buried in his pocket. He found himself wondering what could have happened if he'd ever had the courage to tell Monica the truth about how he felt, and he speculated on what could have been. He'd dreamed of being the man who captured her heart, but deep down he'd known that she would never go for someone like him -- after all, she deserved better. Lately, while there was no doubt in his mind that he loved Kathy and would marry her, the old thoughts had returned, and while he wasn't in love with Monica, he still found himself wondering what could have been. "What if?" he wondered silently as Monica suddenly rose from the pew.  
"Well, you'd better get up there," she told him, forcing her voice to be light. Chandler rose sadly, wishing for the thousandth time that he could fix her.   
"Yeah, it looks that way," he said softly. Monica nodded and, not trusting herself to speak anymore, she hugged him quickly and made her way toward one of the pews near the front where Rachel and Phoebe were sitting. Chandler watched her go for a moment and then turned to see Ross and Joey standing next to him.  
"Okay, dude, let's get this show on the road!" Joey said with a smile, grabbing his arm and leading him toward the front of the church. He stood at the altar, smiling as he nervously fiddled with the string of pearls that was still in his pocket. He silently thanked his mother for giving him something to toy with -- if she hadn't, he would surely be wringing his hands and looking how he felt -- like a man on death row. He watched with a small smile as the ring bearer, the flower girl, and Kathy's bridesmaids walked slowly toward the front of the church. He suddenly felt funny, almost as though something were wrong. He felt Ross inconspicuously touch his arm, which he realized had been moving greatly as he worked the choker. He shot him a grateful smile and removed his hand from his pocket and then folding them gently in front of him. During the momentary lull in the ceremony just before Kathy appeared, he scanned the crowd and his gaze inadvertently fell on Monica. He allowed his gaze to pause on her for a moment and he felt something in his heart trigger as he stared at her. Her face was a combination of false happiness and pain, and he blinked, trying to clear the haze that had suddenly clouded his vision. He shook his head and returned his stare toward the doors at the back of the church that had opened, revealing Kathy and her father. He smiled when he saw his bride-to-be and tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. He could see her smile from where he was standing and he smiled again. His smile faded as she began to walk toward him, and his mind was racing. He knew he'd feel nervous, but suddenly it was more than that. He was suddenly enveloped in the hazy confusion that was always present when he woke up from a deep and detailed dream, and he shook his head slightly, trying to erase the feeling. As Kathy neared, he found that he was feeling more and more disoriented, and he silently scolded himself for being so nervous. He'd known that getting married would make him anxious, but this was ridiculous. Kathy was suddenly right in front of him, and as her father kissed her on the cheek, Chandler swallowed nervously. She joined him on the altar and he forced a smile, not wanting her to know how unsettled he was feeling. She smiled back and he began to feel suffocated as the minister began to deliver his oration. As he stared at Kathy, he was suddenly overcome with a new type of fear that he found he couldn't push away. While not ten minutes ago he'd been certain that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, he was out of the blue struck with the inkling suspicion that she wasn't the woman he was supposed to be with. He suddenly thought of the necklace in his pocket and the tale his mother had told him. He silently scolded himself for buying into such garbage, but deep down almost wondered if it held any meaning. WAS Kathy really the woman he was meant to spend his life with? Unable to help himself, he snuck a look past Kathy and glanced at Monica, whose facial expression still gave her true feelings away, despite her best efforts to hid them.   
Monica looked back at him, not allowing herself to hope that she would ever win him back. After all, she was at his wedding, watching him get married to another woman. She sighed and felt her heart continue to crumble but forced herself to maintain the plastic smile that she'd been wearing throughout the day. She stared at Chandler as she felt her entire life's happiness, a happiness that she knew was wrapped up in him, dissolve and fade away. As the seconds ticked by and the minister droned on, she was losing him to another woman. In ten short minutes he would belong to Kathy, and she would be forced to get on with her life as best she could. She silently bade him goodbye and forced herself not to unleash the tears that were raging behind her forced smile.  
He felt Kathy squeeze his hand, pulling his attention back to the ceremony. As the minister continued to speak, she gave him a concerned and nervous look, silently asking if he were okay. Chandler ignored the look and turned his attention toward the priest, trying to push the doubts out of his mind. Surely these were just pre-marital jitters that would disappear as soon as he said, "I do." After all, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Kathy. Didn't he?  
He was jerked back from his thoughts as the minister announced that Chandler and Kathy had written their own vows and would be reciting them. Chandler tried to ignore the increasingly severe doubts and the haze in his mind and focus on Kathy as she began to speak.  
"Chandler, I love you," she began. He forced a smile and listened as she continued. "It feels as though I've loved you forever, like you're the one I'm supposed to be with. You've made me happier than you know, and I hope I've made you feel the same. The day you asked me to be your wife was the happiest day of my life, and I know that every day I spend with you will only get better. When I first met you while I was with Joey, I thought that you would turn into a great friend, but you became so much more. I guess it's true what people say: Love is friendship caught on fire." As soon as the phrase left her mouth, Chandler felt as though someone had slapped him across the face and he stared at her. The expression had triggered something in his mind and, unable to stop himself, he looked past Kathy again and stared at Monica. He suddenly found himself remembering the feeling of kissing her, and while he tried to dismiss it as a memory of a dream, the haze began to clear and he suddenly felt disoriented. He felt as though it should be Monica standing next to him on the altar, and he shook his head slightly, trying to make sense of his thoughts. He could distantly hear Kathy whisper his name and feel her squeeze his hand, but he was too lost in his thoughts to acknowledge her. As he looked at Monica once again, it hit him like a ton of bricks and literally took his breath away. His gaze was locked on her, and memories began to trickle back into his brain at first, but then they turned into a rush of thoughts that he couldn't dismiss. London -- their first night together. Vegas -- they almost eloped. His proposal -- when he thought he'd lost her to Richard. He suddenly felt lost, almost as though he'd just woken up from a coma and his entire world had changed on him. How the hell had this happened? What was going on, and why was Kathy on the altar with him instead of Monica? He looked at Monica for one more second as she stared sadly back at him, and he instantly hated himself for causing the pain that was evident in her eyes. He felt Kathy squeeze his hand again and he tore his eyes from Monica and stared at her, feeling his desperation and his fear mount as he realized what was happening. In that second, he knew he had to make a decision: he was either going to have to make good on his promise and marry the woman in front of him or break her heart.  
  
PROBABLY JUST ONE PART LEFT.... PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW! IT MAKES US WRITER-PEOPLE FEEL LOVED, LOL. THANKS FOR READING! LET US KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! PART FIVE COMING SOON!!  



	5. Chapter Five

OKAY... HERE'S PART FIVE. THANK YOU SO MUCH TO THE PEOPLE WHO LEFT REVIEWS FOR THE PREVIOUS PARTS... PLEASE VOICE YOUR OPINIONS ON THIS CHAPTER AS WELL! ALSO, THANK YOU TO ALL THE PEOPLE WHO KEPT HASSLING ME TO GET IT WRITTEN, LOL. :-) AND A REMINDER ONCE MORE: THIS IS A JOINT EFFORT AND WOULD PROBABLY BE COMPLETE AND UTTER CRAP WERE IT NOT FOR THE BRILLIANT EDITORIAL SKILLS AND STORYLINE SUGGESTIONS OF NATCHOU!! :-)  
  
"Chandler." Kathy's voice cut through his thoughts and he jerked his attention back to her. She was staring at him, and in her face he could see concern, irritation, and confusion. He stared at her, his mind awhirl.  
  
"Mr. Bing, it's your turn," the priest informed him.   
  
Chandler nodded and swallowed. He licked his lips, trying in vain to find moisture in his mouth, which had suddenly gone bone-dry. He let go of Kathy's hand and reached into his pocket for the vows he had written. As he did so, he felt the cool pearls of the necklace brush against his hand, and he almost jerked his hand back as though he'd been bitten. He tried to smile as he unfolded the piece of paper, forcing himself not to look past Kathy's face and into Monica's, knowing that if he did he would lose his cool. He'd promised to marry Kathy, and he wasn't about to let pre-wedding jitters stop him; and yet, he no longer fully believed that it was simply nerves. Remembrances of his relationship with Monica were slowly trickling back into his mind, and although he was confused, the haze was beginning to evaporate.  
  
He cleared his throat nervously as he looked at the small piece of paper in front of him, which was shaking due to his trembling hands. The words blurred and he blinked, trying to clear his vision. He quickly scanned the words, and he realized that he barely even remembered writing them. They suddenly seemed foreign, as foreign as the feelings he had declared to have for Kathy. While the feelings themselves weren't entirely unknown, he was gradually realizing that while he had felt them, he hadn't felt them for the woman who stood before him. His thoughts were once again interrupted by a whisper from his supposed bride-to-be.   
  
"What's the matter?" While her voice was gentle, her eyes were demanding and he searched desperately for something to say. "Chandler, answer me." He could hear people in the pews whispering, and he realized that he must look like a first-rate moron, standing on the altar struck dumb. He could feel two hundred pairs of eyes burning into him, and while he still hadn't looked into the sea of faces, one of those pairs seemed to be doing most of the damage. He eventually managed to shake his head and force a small smile in an attempt to reassure her. He once again looked down at the leaflet of paper before him and took a deep breath.  
  
"Kathy," he began, his voice shaking. "I've learned a lot in the past few months, and-- uh..." He licked his lips again, determined to fight whatever it was that was holding him back. "I learned how great it felt to love someone and to be loved back." As he progressed through the vow, his apprehension eased slightly, although the feeling that something was amiss lingered. He tried to ignore it as he continued to read, and Kathy seemed to relax somewhat as the moments passed.  
  
Monica sat, motionless and stone-faced, listening to Chandler's words and wishing with all her heart that they were directed at her. She wondered what he would have said during their wedding, as they'd been planning on writing their own vows as well. She silently ran over the vow she'd written to him, the words she'd memorized and had been silently reciting like a mantra since she'd finished writing them. She realized that she hadn't rehearsed them to herself since the day the world got turned upside down, and yet she hadn't forgotten a word. "I guess that's what happens when you really and truly mean them," she thought. She felt her breathing pick up slightly and her eyes sting, and she forced herself to focus on Chandler's speech and not on the dull ache that had filled her heart, knowing that if she allowed herself the luxury of actually experiencing her emotions, she would never make it through the ceremony. She blinked rapidly and focused on Chandler's wedding.  
  
Chandler finished reading his vow and looked up from the paper as he folded it and returned it to his pocket. He took a deep breath, thankful that he'd managed to make it all the way through the reading. He noted that Kathy's expression seemed to be somewhat hesitant, but he forced a smile in an attempt to set her mind at rest. He could feel his palms sweating as Kathy once again took hold of his hand, and he glanced at the minister, who had taken over.  
  
"Do you, Kathy, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to love and honor him for better or worse, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?" Kathy smiled slightly.  
  
"I do." Chandler forced himself to smile back at her, but he felt his body freeze when the priest addressed him.  
  
"Chandler, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love and comfort for better or worse, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"   
  
Time seemed to freeze for a moment as Chandler looked into her eyes and was instantly confused by the loving and reassuring look that he saw in them. How could someone love him that much? How could he be stupid enough to doubt marrying her? He took a deep breath to steady himself. He loved Kathy. She loved him. They'd come this far. This was it. He owed it to her to marry her, and he knew he'd have to be crazy to ruin a good thing. He smiled down at her, and in the split second before he answered the priest, he snuck a glance past her and at Monica, who seemed to be holding her breath.  
  
"I can't." The collective gasp of the audience reflected his own astonishment as the words left his mouth. He was dimly aware of Kathy letting go of his hands as she leaned away from him slightly. He'd fully intended on saying "I do," but something had happened between his mind and his mouth, and it was as though some other power had taken over. He blinked as Kathy stared at him, shocked and hurt, her eyes flashing.  
  
"Chandler?" Her voice demonstrated the same emotions as her eyes, and he felt the guilt wash over him as the realization of what he'd done hit him.  
  
"Oh, God, Kathy, I'm so sorry." She took a step away from him. Until that moment, she'd hoped that it had been a mistake, and that he would say "I do" anyway, but his apology had quickly erased such a possibility. She stared at him for a moment and then dropped her bouquet and ran from the altar and toward the back of the church. Chandler momentarily stared after and then ran after her, knowing that after this he owed her an explanation, at the very least, and he hoped that she'd give him the chance to at least apologize.  
  
Monica watched them go, shocked and dumbfounded. She momentarily wondered if Chandler's sudden reluctance had anything to do with her, but she pushed the thought aside and joined in the buzzing conversation of her group of friends.  
  
  
  
  
"Hi." Monica looked up and was both surprised and suddenly nervous to see Chandler staring down at her, a strange expression on his face.  
  
"Hi," she replied softly. She took a sip of the champagne that she held and gazed across at the small pond behind the church. She shifted slightly, the cold stone of the church steps making her uncomfortable. "You okay?" she asked after a moment. He shrugged and nodded toward her glass. She smiled slightly and handed it to him, watching absently as he took a sip. He made a move to return the glass to her, but she shook her head with a sympathetic smile. "I think you need it more than I do." He smiled slightly, thanking her and joining her on the church steps. "Where is everyone?" Monica asked slowly. She knew that all of the guests were at the reception hall, with the exception of quite a few of Kathy's guests; the true question dealt with Kathy's whereabouts and what had happened after she'd fled from the altar. After a moment's hesitation, Chandler sighed.  
  
"My family? Reception hall. Kathy's family? Probably sticking pins into little Chandler-voodoo dolls. As for Kathy herself..." His voice trailed off as he took another sip of the champagne, a guilty expression taking over his face. "Her parents' house." Monica nodded silently. They sat in wordlessly for a few moments before Monica sighed quietly.  
  
"I'm sorry, Chandler."  
  
"Don't be."  
  
"But I am. I know how excited you were and..." She paused as she searched for the right words. True, she hadn't wanted him to get married, and the sudden turn of events had filled her with a tiny trace of hope, but she wanted him to be happy all the same. Unsure of what to say, she allowed her unfinished sentence to hang in the air between them as they both stared out at the lake.  
  
Chandler gazed absently over the water that was comfortingly calm as the formerly sunny sky gave way to the soft haze of dusk. He nervously turned the crystal glass around in his fingers as he inattentively waved away one of the mosquitoes that had emerged in the late afternoon. His mind was awhirl and he was a mess. Then again, the term "mess" didn't even begin to describe it. While he was slowly coming to realize what had happened, he was completely lost as to where to begin unraveling it. He heaved a sigh once more as he drained the glass and sat it down on the step beside him. He suddenly noted that Monica was shivering slightly and he quickly shrugged off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders, smiling down at her as she grinned up at him gratefully. After another quiet moment, Monica cleared her throat nervously.  
  
"You know, if you want or need to talk about anything..." She paused. "Just... I'm here. Willing to listen. God knows you've done enough to try to help me lately... so... y'know. Feel free to unload." Her uneasiness lessened slightly when he smiled appreciatively.  
  
"Thanks." She nodded as they fell into silence once again.  
  
Chandler absentmindedly removed the bow tie from around his neck and ran it through his hands as he stared out at the water, wondering how and where to begin. He knew that Monica had to have been living in hell the past few weeks, and while he was still somewhat hazy on the details of what was going on, there was absolutely no doubt that he remembered them being together. He remembered little things that couldn't just be figments of his imagination: him blurting out that he loved her while she was wearing a turkey on her head, him proposing to her because she was angry with him, him moving in and freaking out that she'd get upset that he'd moved things without her permission. He found himself smiling at the memories, and was suddenly struck dumb with fear that he'd somehow ruined it. How on earth could he have forgotten? With every passing moment, he remembered more and more, and with every remembrance he loved her more and more. As he snuck a sideways glance at her profile, he once again hated himself for causing the pain that was written across her face, in spite of her best efforts to hide it.  
  
Monica shyly pulled Chandler's tuxedo jacket tighter around her and tried to ignore the familiar Chandler scent that wafted up from its fabric. Not knowing what to say and not wanting to upset him further, she remained silent, waiting for him to break the ice. While her curiosity was almost killing her, she was in no way ready to start prying into his business, and she was even less willing to allow herself to believe that his inability to say "I do" had anything to do with her. Memories of their relationship once again tried to creep into her mind, but she battled them fiercely, as it seemed she'd been doing for far too long.  
  
"Monica?" Chandler voice startled her and she turned to face him, slightly bewildered. He momentarily argued with himself over what to say, but a brief glance into her clear blue eyes told him that she'd suffered enough and that it was no time to beat around the bush. He took a deep breath. "I remember."  
  
Monica felt her heart lurch as she gazed at him and she swallowed the lump that had immediately appeared in her throat. She refused to believe that it meant what she so desperately wanted it to mean. She remembered when she had thought the song had sparked his memory, and she had been so crushed when her hopes had been shot down that she'd silently sworn to herself not to allow herself to hope that much again.  
  
"You remember," she repeated carefully, trying to determine what he could possibly be talking about. It obviously had something to do with Kathy and his failed wedding, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out what memory had to do with it.   
  
He nodded.  
  
"Remember what?" she asked hesitantly. He stared at her.  
  
"Us." She felt her heart skip once again and once again she disregarded the feeling of hope that had managed to creep back into her mind, despite her strongest attempts to fight it.  
  
"Us?" He sighed. She obviously wasn't going to make it easy for him.  
  
"And why should she?" he reasoned silently. "I broke her heart." He was silent for another moment while he looked at her sadly before speaking. "God, Mon, I'm so sorry. I can't even begin to imagine what I've put you through, and... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't even know how to apologize to you... I'm sorry for hurting you... I don't know what happened. I feel... I don't even know how I feel, but it's almost like I just... I don't know, woke up or something." He paused. "God, that sounds so crappy. But honestly, that's how it feels. You know how you wake up from a really vivid dream and it takes a moment to get your wits about you?" She nodded silently. "Well, that's how I feel now. Like that. Kind of." He stopped when she smiled ironically.  
  
"Funny." He stared at her and after a pause she continued. "In a way that's like me. For the past week... my life has been that dream. Only..." her voice drifted off for a moment before she averted her gaze back out toward the lake. "It was more of a nightmare, I guess." She sighed again. "Chandler, what are you saying?" Before he could answer she continued, her eyes filling with the tears she'd been holding back all day. "Because I can't handle this. I can't handle the hope at the possibility of having you back and then losing it again. I can't. I'm not strong enough. So... please, just tell me straight up what you're talking about, because I just can't handl--" She was cut off as he suddenly scooted closer to her and kissed her gently. In the instant their lips touched, the floodgates opened and the haze cleared and he was suddenly without any confusion whatsoever. It was as though Kathy and the past weeks had all been a dream from which he had suddenly awoken. He deepened the kiss slightly, cradling her head gently in his hand. After a moment he pulled away and noticed the tears that were rolling freely down her cheeks. Her eyes still seemed to be begging him for some reassurance that it wasn't a game.  
  
He kissed her gently once more as he rested his forehead against hers. "Love is friendship caught on fire," he whispered, sending a chill down her back. "Blue sweatshirt. Rolling eights at the craps table. A princess-cut diamond ring. The key that broke in the door when I tried to christen it. Sock bunnies and mixed tapes." The tears had increased and Monica could barely find the ability to speak. The hope that it was real seemed too good to be true, and the anxiety was nearly suffocating her.  
  
"Ch-- Chandler," she choked out.  
  
He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Hildy. From the museum. The best day of my life. I realized... you wanted to spend forever with me." She tried to draw in a breath as her body shook. He squeezed her upper arms as he kissed her forehead gently. "I love you." Monica closed her eyes as he rested his lips against her forehead. "Please. Please Monica, tell me I haven't ruined it."  
  
"Oh, Chandler..." Her voice trailed off as she looked up at him. "You could never ruin it." She allowed him to wrap his arms around her as she noted with relief that it suddenly felt like the embrace of fiance-Chandler and not friend-Chandler. Her body shook with the sobs that she had been desperately battling for what seemed like weeks, and as he rubbed her back soothingly she allowed her once pent-up emotions to be released. And yet, despite the hell she had been in, she didn't have as many tears as she'd thought. "Then again," she thought to herself. "There's not much to cry about now that I'm back in his arms." She took a shaky breath as her tears slowed and she pulled away from him. "I love you," she whispered fiercely. He gazed at her red eyes and smiled slightly.  
  
"How is it that you're so breathtakingly beautiful, even when you're so upset?" She smiled through her tears and he grinned back as he pulled away slightly. "Hang on, I have a tissue." He reached into his pocket and grabbed one. As he pulled it out he noticed that his mother's necklace had been tangled up with it and it fell to the ground. He bent to pick it up and suddenly stared at it, remembering the night he'd given it to her and the tale his mother had told him. "Whoa." Realizing what he was thinking, Monica spoke in a quiet voice.  
  
"She told you the story too, huh?" Chandler nodded.  
  
"Power of the human mind," he mumbled. Monica sighed as she leaned against him.  
  
"Not even crazy tales and superstitions could keep us apart." She knew how trite it sounded, but in that moment she couldn't have cared less. She was back in Chandler's arms. Back in the only arms that had ever offered her all the protection the world had to give, and the arms in which she had feared she'd never be embraced again.  
  
"Nothing ever will," he promised her. She gazed up at him adoringly, once again lost in a sea of happiness as she was reassured by the loving and protective look that had reappeared in his sky blue eyes. He kissed her forehead once again. "As much as I love holding you, what would you say to moving off of this cold slab of concrete?" Monica smiled, the first real smile in over a week, and as he stood and extended his hand she accepted and rose beside him. He glanced at the necklace that he still held in his hand, and then back at her, wondering what to do with the family heirloom that seemed to be more of a problem than a present.  
  
"Sweetheart, as beautiful as it is..." Monica trailed off, not wanting to offend him. He grinned down at her.  
  
"I'll give it back to my mother," he said softly, smiling. "Jewelry's jewelry, and she sure as hell isn't one to worry about divorce." Monica smiled as he tucked the choker into his pocket and wrapped his arm tightly around her waist as they headed toward home, safe in the knowledge that their love had survived the most absurd of obstacles. Monica paused slightly and he looked down at her carefully.  
  
"Do you think maybe she has a ring that could turn you into my slave?"   
  
Chandler tried to glare at her, but he couldn't deny the grin that was underneath it. He kissed her head and, breathing in the smell of her hair, whispered, "I've already surrendered to you." Mon smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder as they resumed their walk home, knowing that, while she would allow him to think of her as the strong and controlling one, she had seen that her life without him had neither strength nor control, happiness nor purpose. She also knew that somehow they'd been tested and had survived, not just individually but together.  



End file.
